Showing posts with label Dairy Hollow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dairy Hollow. Show all posts

Sunday, October 25, 2015

From pillar to post and back again


      It’s about time for another Dairy Hollow (writers’ colony) residency in Eureka Springs. I’ve been going “to the mountains” every autumn for the past five years. It is as gorgeous now as it is in the spring––only different. For three years, BFF Dot-from-Beebe has gone, too. One year, our planned trip to the Florida panhandle was cancelled due to an incoming severe weather event. We were psyched for a vacation, so we found a haven in The Hollow, where we also wrote. BUT, we visited Crystal Bridges as part of our get-away.           

There is an industry trend toward using fewer commas in the print media. Here is an example of a sentence where a comma would have helped me understand the context. “Masked youth wearing black torched cars...” My thought: how does one wear a torched car, even on Halloween?

            Re-reading, I paused—like a comma demands—and got the gist. “Torched” is a verb instead of an adjective. However, “torched cars” is also a possibility.

            If that weren’t enough, I read another headline that used “... OK—illegal ...” which if read rapidly, might give one an eerie feeling. An oxymoronic conundrum? Perhaps I’d better slow down from now on.

            Slowing down will not change the stupidity of the fellow who walked out of a Walmart in stolen jeans, leaving his old jeans and his wallet in the dressing room.

            What an ignoble way for a noble woman to die, especially at the age of 94. Mrs. Helen Wittenberg was pulled from a burning building near the Governor’s Mansion. She died a few days later of smoke inhalation.

            Sometimes, it’s hard to imagine mothers and/ or fathers naming their babies these unusual (to us) names. But there they are, in black-and-white-and read all over: Corney, Cotton, Lawrie, Oswald (female!), Maitland (m), Paskal, Kell, Arnis, Lonzo and Jewell (1916-era),  Roswald, Sundown, Mallard and Lessie, Chessie, Blossom, Ammer, Shenna and Binnie (m).

            I like the way Bill White (Hot Springs Novel Writers) writes. He’s a real journalist and knows that a good column concerns only one subject. I can’t seem to do that very often. Instead, I bounce from pillar to post, from subject to subject. Wonder if it has anything to do with attention spans?

            That said, here is a list of eponyms—words derived from proper names––that have become part of the language: pasteurized: Louis Pasteur; diesel: Rudolf Diesel (German); volt: Count Allesandro Volta; shrapnel: Henry Shrapnel; bigot: Nathaniel Bigot; lynch: William Lynch (18th century); bloomer: Amelia Jenkins Bloomer; and guillotine: Dr. Joseph-Ignace Guillotin.

Maybe bouncing from pillar to post is one method of making sense of things. Or a way of keeping different projects at the forefront of one’s attention. An example: when I go into any room in this house, there is the temptation to straighten that, check this, finish moving that piece, continue “thinning” boxes of old cards and letters and games and school papers and . . .      Now, why did I come into this room?

           

 

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Writers Colony at Dairy Hollow - guest column

L. to R. Talya, Pat, Tom, Joan, Dorothy before a scrumptious dinner meal at WCDH
 
 Food for the soul

Guest blog
by Talya Tate Boerner

 

For one week, the Writer’s Colony at Dairy Hollow becomes my home. Cocooned within a brilliant autumn forest, I write. There are five of us; each pondering a different project, all with the same objective—to create.    

             Day and night we edit, revise, think, drain our thoughts onto paper, and spend hours wrestling with one phrase, one word…

In need of fresh air, I walk along Spring Street, while mentally rearranging thoughts into paragraphs. A rusty gate inspires a poem. A shop owner becomes the protagonist in a short story. Musings stir among the trees.

In the evenings, we are lured to dinner by kitchen aromas. Chef Jana (pronounced “Yana”) spoils us with gourmet meals worthy of “Bon Appetit.” Stick-to-the-ribs, yet surprisingly healthy and organic. Squash mixed with Gruyere, fresh kale and slivered almonds, pan-seared chicken, tarts made from Pat’s freshly stewed pears (gluten-free for me!).

As writers we can only dream of stringing together book chapters as skillfully as meals are spread night after night. Nurturing, these meals provide a time of relaxation and reflection. Sustenance for writing.

Early in the week, our discussions are sparse “how-do-you-do, nice-to-meet-you, where-are-you-from” chats. Polite and courteous, barely scratching the surface. Exchanges between near (or complete) strangers.

By week’s end, conversations are rich, the laughter familiar as we delve deeper, call each other out, poke fun. Our souls poured onto paper, we’ve come to know one another. Like kids at summer camp, we hate to see our time at Dairy Hollow end.

Dairy Hollow Butternut Squash and Mushroom Tart. This amazing dish was served during our week at Dairy Hollow. I badgered Chef Jana until she gave me the recipe… (modified from “Cooking Light”)

Crust:

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour * ¼ teaspoon salt * ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper * ¼ teaspoon baking powder * ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil * 3 tablespoons ice water * cooking spray.

Filling:

3 cups peeled cubed butternut squash * 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided * ¾ cup chopped onion * 2.5 ounces aged Gruyere cheese, shredded and divided (about 2/3 cup) * 2 large eggs * ½ teaspoon salt, divided * ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, divided * 1 ½ ounces chopped pancetta (or bacon) * 5 ounces white button mushroom caps * ¼ cup dry white wine

Preparation:

    Preheat oven to 425°.

    To prepare crust, weigh or lightly spoon flour into a dry measuring cup and spoons; level with a knife. Combine flour and next 3 ingredients (through baking powder) in a food processor; pulse 2 times or until combined.

       Combine 1/4 cup oil and 3 tablespoons ice water in a small bowl. With processor on, slowly add oil mixture through food chute, and process until dough is crumbly. Sprinkle dough into a 9-inch pie plate coated with cooking spray.

       Quickly press dough into an even layer in bottom and up sides of pie plate. Place crust into preheating oven, and bake for 10 minutes. 

To prepare filling, place squash in food processor (do not clean from dough), and process for 1 minute or until squash is finely chopped

       Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add 1 tablespoon oil to pan; swirl to coat. Add squash and onion to pan; sauté for 9 minutes, stirring occasionally.

      While squash cooks, combine half of cheese (about 1/3 cup), eggs, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper in a large bowl; stir in squash mixture. Remove crust from oven; spoon squash mixture over crust, and spread evenly. Return tart to 425° oven; bake 9 minutes.

     Return pan to medium-high heat. Add remaining 1 tablespoon oil to pan; swirl to coat. Add pancetta; cook 1 minute or until beginning to brown. Add mushrooms; cook for 7 minutes or until browned.

     Stir in remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Add wine; cook 1 minute or until liquid almost evaporates. Remove tart from oven. Arrange the mushroom mixture evenly over top of tart; sprinkle with the remaining 1/3 cup cheese.

     Return tart to 425° oven. Bake 3 to 5 minutes or until cheese melts.

     NOTE: Gruyere cheese has a strong flavor, if you prefer use half Gruyere and half Monterey Jack. Serves 6. Calories=368, Fat=21.8 grams, Protein=11 grams, Fiber=2.8 grams. #

View Talya's blog, gracegrits&gardening.blogspot.com

Thursday, November 1, 2012

I never tire of time in the Ozarks

Porch of Spring Garden Suite, Writers Colony at Dairy Hollow,
Eureka Springs Arkansas
by Pat Laster
 
Who but an over-achieving writer would take such pains to bundle up and go outside on a below-freezing Ozark morning? (With coffee, of course, even though a stronger roast than my usual half-caff.)
Answer: For one, a back-packed mountain man walking an ubiquitous incline toward downtown. For another, a dog walker. She looked over. I “Good morning”-ed and in response, she said, “I just saw a red fox go across the road. Beautiful! ”
So I’m in good company here in Eureka Springs, in Spring Garden Suite, my usual stable  at Dairy Hollow. I did ask for a room in the new “505” building next door, but Ms. Director forgot and instead, scheduled a writer who wanted to stay a month. I didn’t mind, especially when I discovered it was Tom S. from New England who was a co-resident several years ago.
MY MUSE
One leaf,
large and tattered, 
followed me inside, like
a cat waiting for the door to
open.
 “Hello
there! Come on in!
You’ll be safe from Jana’s
leaf blower. Here, join the ones I
picked up
as I
crossed the parking
lot yesterday. Right up
here under the lamp where I can
see you."
Behind me, cars and conversation. A writing workshop was scheduled for all day in the main house. If someone parked in front of “my” place, (six feet from the street) I’d have to move inside!  Or complain.

VIEW FROM THE STREET AT THE WRITERS COLONY FROM THE VIEWPOINT OF A DOG WALKER
Would you
 look at that! A
cleverly stuffed strawman
posing as a writer on this
freezing

morning.
No gloves, though. Life-
like hands, even holding
a Razorback pen! It IS a
writer!?!
Vehicles began parking on “our” street. But no one exited an SUV. Might it be a photographer? After all, there were now three papers in this town, though two of them seem to have the same information—written by different folks.
No newspaper photog, alas, but Tom walked by with a basket of breakfast and lunch fixings “so I won’t have to ‘bug them.’” He gestured toward the main house soon-to-be-awash with paying, workshopping writers. “Oh,” he continued. “Mind if I take a picture of you writing? I’ll send it to my wife and email or text you a copy.”
“Oh, no!” I said, followed immediately by, “Okay.” How did he know that at that very moment I was writing about a photographer? Karma?  Indeed, I DID look like an obese straw person!
Later, I went inside to refill my coffee mug—a leaf-motifed one from home. As I turned back to the door, sure enough, there was a vehicle immediately between “my” walk and the street. An older man with a knitted head covering carried his supplies down the stone slab steps to the entrance of the main house. The antique-car license also showed a Vietnam Veteran sticker. I forgave him immediately.
TWENTY SIX DEGREES

Colder,
but the maples
aren’t yet as vibrant as
last year, or hickories quite as
yellow.

 Turns out that the area’s prime color peaked last week. Maple, hickory and cottonwood leaves were now underfoot. Except the ones I brought in to grace my writing space.
 
c 2012 by Pat Laster dba lovepat press, Benton Arkansas